


Whole lotta love

by Totallyawesomeharry



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alpha/Omega, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bratty Behavior, Breathplay, Cage, Complete AU, Cunnilingus, Domestic, F/M, Feathers & Featherplay, Fucking, Hand Feeding, Ice Play, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Naked Female Clothed Male, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, PWP, Playing House, Porn With Plot, Prostitution, Punishment, Sex, Smut, Spanking, St Andrews Cross, Stripping, Temperature Play, Time Out, Violet Wand, Wax Play, a virgin has written this so, blindfold, electric play, hogtied, i just used these charators to be able to do the plot, malia and derek are not related, maybe some other stuff ive forgotten?, nothing is cannon complacient, playroom, probably not vrey accurate, probably really inaccurate, where do i even begin?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 13:04:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totallyawesomeharry/pseuds/Totallyawesomeharry
Summary: Safrion asked me if i would rather have to suffer through periods or heat. i said heat because at least you could become a prostitute and make money out of it.I got writers block on all my other wips, so Saf suggested writing this plot. Blame her, not me! (Love you really saf!)Malia is an omega and has found a positive way to deal with her heats.this was meant to be a 2k pwp to get me in the swing of writing again. so here is 20K of plot...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note in this AU Malia and Derek are not related. I used these characters as they were the closest to fit the plot i wanted, but they probably go quite au (i only pay attention to derek/stiles in cannon tbh)
> 
> i have very limited knowledge about sex, so please dont take this fic as fact, and im sorry if it reads unrealistically.  
> Unbeta'ered, all errors are mine. and its only been proof read once, but it has taken me 2 months to write and i just wanted to get it posted  
> im sure there was something else i needed to say, but i've forgotten now.  
> anyway, enjoy!!

Many people hate being labelled as an omega. It’s okay most of the time, and no one can tell the difference between an omega and a beta. However every couple of months an omega has to go through heat; an unbearable period of heightened sex drive.

For most it would mean searching for an alpha to be a long term mate, as a beta wouldn’t quite have the stamina to solve an omega’s problem. It’s not to say it wasn’t possible, but an alpha is more desirable for most. Although it wasn’t the rule, many omegas tended towards being on the more submissive side of the spectrum, even if BDSM wasn’t a large part of their sexual life. The natural dominance of an alpha helped to balance out a partnership; something that didn’t come as easy to betas. Although that isn’t to say a beta/omega pairing was unheard of; they weren’t even all too rare.

Omega’s tended to fall into one of two categories when attempting to seek out their perfect mate. Most would spend the majority of their high school life dating in the hopes of finding that perfect someone to settle down with, while some would have several friends with benefits to call upon during the rough period of heat. It was hardly surprising that teen omegas were often referred to as sluts, even if it wasn’t in their control.

Malia was never someone who wanted a relationship. Her omega classmates would often complain about feeling lonely when not in a relationship, something Malia never sympathised with. She had tried dating a couple of times but always found it stressful, not worth the effort. She was much happier on her own.

She was convinced she must have been a beta, as she just didn’t have the same emotions people described omegas to have. She had associated herself as maybe being asexual, since she didn’t seem to have the _desire_ that her friends would often talk about.

That of course changed when she had her first heat at sixteen. She decided she fitted much better under the label of aromantic. She still had no interest in dating, but her sex drive had sky rocketed.

She discovered what fun masturbation could be.

As she started to get older, her heats of course got stronger, and she was unable to solve this issue herself. As she was nearing her seventeenth birthday, she decided she needed a solution and came up with a plan. Without a fuss, she picked up her fake id, pulled on her most revelling black dress, and travelled to a pub on the outskirts of Beacon hills, where she was unlikely to be spotted by someone who recognised her.

She didn’t want her classmates labelling her as one of the Omegas who would sleep around with the other alphas and betas at school.

That night she ended up getting her first repeat customer, an alpha by the name of Tobias. He fucked her roughly, and at the end felt sorry for the seventeen year old so offered her some compensation. He didn’t know that Malia had already nicked a fifty from his wallet in the pub, but she still accepted the hundred he offered her.

Getting $150 dollars for something she can’t deal with on her own? To Malia it was win-win. She had returned to the pub every night that week, going home with different alphas. Not all of them paid her, but it didn’t mean she went home empty handed. After the guy had passed out in an orgasm filled bliss, she would sneakily take a few notes from their wallet and be gone before they woke.

Of course, she didn’t take enough for them to really notice. That way it kept them coming back. She just took enough to cover her taxi fair and bar tab, leaving a little on the side as a treat.

As she got older, she started being more upfront about her charges, refusing to go home with anyone who didn’t want to pay. She had several regulars and could afford to turn away those who wouldn’t cough up a little cash for her time.

When she moved to Dallas, it became her main source of income to put her through college. She often wondered why she even bothered with her degree when she could make more in one night than her career goal would in a month.

“Red dress, or blue dress?” She deliberates out loud, standing in front of her mirror and holding both up. “Red or blue, red or blue.” She alternates which one she holds up to her chest. “Red, blue, red, blue, red, blue. Or maybe the purple one!” She goes to her wardrobe to find the purple dress, only to remember that was the one she wore yesterday. She might not be going to the same bar, but the purple dress needs washing.

Some of her clients don’t have the patience to let her strip completely.

Yes, the purple dress defiantly needs washing.                                                                                                            

“Red or blue. Red or blue…” she mutters. It doesn’t matter really, as whatever she doesn’t wear today she will use tomorrow.

She looks out the window to get a feel for the weather tonight. Because it’s a Monday none of her usual hunting places are open. If she has to go out on a Monday it’s always a case of finding an unoccupied street corner.

Since it’s January and the weather can be quite chilling, she decides the sleeved, slightly longer blue dress is the way to go, even if she doesn’t usually have quite as much success in it. She should still earn a few hundred, and enough to dilute her heat until tomorrow.

Once dressed she takes her time doing her make-up, making sure to use the longer lasting brand. Tomorrow her heat is at the strongest. She needs to have several clients tonight if she stands any chance of making it to school tomorrow looking relatively normal rather than desperate to be bent over the desk and fucked, rest of the class be damned.

Despite having only just turned four pm, she heads out her flat and down the lift, deciding on her first location of the night.

***

The first few clients are simple, both only wanting a quick hand job in their cars before they arrive home from work, likely to their wife cooking tea and their kids doing their homework.

The idea doesn’t really bother Malia. As long as she gets her twenty-five bucks it doesn’t matter to her where the guys go off to after.

The benefit of being out at this time is being able to catch the people who have had a rough day at work and are looking for a hand job on their way home, which work out to pay more per minute of activity. However she isn’t as busy at this time so there is more hanging around, meaning she averages less an hour overall.

Still, it’s $50 she wouldn’t have got if she had still been at home. A hand job doesn’t really solve her heat problem, but it will pay for the weeks shopping. Plus a bit of spare change.

“What are you doing out here?” A guy calls, having pulled up to the curb and rolled the window down.

“I can be doing anything you want,” she drawls seductively. Malia struts over to him, the guy watching her hips swaying.

“You know, prostitution is illegal right?”

“Who said I was prostitute?” She teases, worrying at her bottom lip in a way many find erotic.

“I think the ripped fishnet tights and high heel boots say it all,” he states with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, maybe you could help be buy something classier, so people don’t mistake me for one of those prostitutes. And I could show you my thanks for your generosity.”

“So I give you money, and you will get me off,” he accuses, but the glint in his eye giving off his true thoughts.

“I didn’t say that now, did I?”

“When is your heat? I can smell it on you.” So he’s one of _those_ guys.

“It’s at its strongest tomorrow.” The guy mulls it over.

“Do you have any commitments you can’t cancel?”

Malia does have lectures tomorrow, but she doesn’t have to think before she answers, “No.”

“And how much would you be wanting for your… new tights… if your gratitude was to last forty-eight hours or so?”

No one has ever wanted Malia for more than two hours, let alone two days! She has no idea what the going rate would be. The man most notice her pause, as he carries on.

“We can go via yours if you want to pack a bag and need to rearrange anything. And I promise I won’t kill you. Do you have any limits?”

“Blood play – I don’t mind if you accidently draw blood, but nothing on purpose. Scat. Infantilism and age play.”

“But submission, bondage and masochism are all green?” Malia nods. “How much do you normally make in a night?”

“Depending on the day, a couple of grand.” She answers, stretching the figure slightly in the hopes of getting more from the man. The most she has earnt in a night was $3760, having been invited to a party and paid per activity per guest. However most nights she does three or four hand jobs at $25 apiece, four or five blow jobs at $50 a time, and goes to a couple of men’s houses at $200 an hour. Plus the few bills she nicks from unsuspecting pockets.

“You agree to come with me, and I will give you one hundred.”

“$100!” Malia exclaims, annoyed. Two days is not worth that little. She could have almost earnt that just in the time she has been talking to this man. Okay, so that’s an exaggeration, but still!

“A hundred grand. If you agree to become my submissive for the whole time.”

“As long as you have a spare toothbrush, we don’t need to go via mine,” she announces without hesitation, walking round to the passenger side of the vehicle. A hundred grand is a lot of money to pass up. Who cares if he may be a serial killer, his money will mean she has enough for life, even if that life may end in forty-eight hours!

“My name is Derek, but you can call me Master.”

***

It’s maybe a thirty minute drive to Derek’s place, and every minute that ticks by Malia’s doubt rises. She doesn’t know where she is going, and it’s dark so she is unable to follow the route. No one knows where she is, and she never carries her phone on ‘work nights’ in case she gets robbed (and she gets most of her clients to transfer the money into her bank, so she doesn’t carry much cash). To top it all off, she is stuck with a guy who is older, stronger, and obviously an alpha.

She’s screwed. Figurately and soon to be literally.

“Have you done this before?” Derek questions as they exit the car, having come to a stop outside of what Malia assumes is his house.

“I tend to take a more submissive roles when with clients. And some have been into bondage and sadism, but never to this level,” she admits honestly.

“Okay. So ground rule is,” he stops with his hand on the door handle, turning towards her. “If at any point you are uncomfortable, unhappy, or no longer enjoying this, you must say the word Argent, and we will stop straight away. We will discuss the issue and then see what to do from there. If you decide you want to stop, I will drive you home, and we will discuss what to do about your money; I promise we will come to a fair compromise, so don’t let that stop you from speaking up. Got it?” Malia nods. “From the moment you step through this door, you will be my submissive. I expect verbal answers to any question I ask, as well as total obedience to any order.”

“I’ve got it,” she confirms.

“I’ve got it, Master,” Derek corrects. Malia echoes him, and is pleased when Derek smiles at her.

Malia holds her breath as he opens the door and she follows him in, the threshold being a visual barrier into the unknown.

“I have just got to put the room in order. When I return I want you naked and on your knees with your head down. You may put your stuff on the floor under the chest of draws, out of sight.” His words send a shiver down her spine.

She stands, watching the man’s retreating figure rise up the stairs.

Only once he is out of sight does she start to move, unzipping her knee high heeled boots.

She has never been particularly self-conscious about her body, but undressing in a strangers hallway with the lights on is a far stretch from her usual haste in a darkened bedroom. Anyone could knock at the door right now with her undressing just behind it.

Heck, it’s probably not even six pm yet, there could easily be a delivery driver about to walk up to the front door.

She pulls her dress over her head, shaking it out to make sure it’s turned the right way. It’s the only clothing she has with her, so folds it carefully to lessen the wrinkles and puts it on top of the unit for the time being.

Had she been thinking with her brain rather than seeing dollar signs, she would have thought about needing a change of clothes.

She shimmies out of her tights, screwing them up in a ball. The first thing she is going to do when she gets home is throw them out. The tights have seen much better days, but she loved the style and could never find anything to replace them with. At least not for a reasonable price. Although after spending time with this man, this Master, she will be able to reason spending the extra money for a new pair.

She unfastens her bra, letting the straps slide of her shoulders. Finally, she hooks her thumbs over her thongs waistband to pull it off her ass. She shakes her backside, letting gravity do the work. When the fabric hits the floor she steps out with her right foot, and uses her left to kick the fabric up. She catches it in the air with a little celebration boogie.

A chuckle interrupts her. She looks up to notice Derek staring down from the top of the stairs with an amused expression.

“Well, don’t stop on my account, I was enjoying the show,” he chuckles as he starts to descend the stairs. “However, as great as it is, this isn’t what I asked for…” he teases, with a hint of scolding.

“Sorry,” she splutters, hastily grabbing the clothes on top of the unit to shove them underneath. She stays on her knees, head dropped to look at Derek’s feet.

“Was that an apology? I don’t know who you were apologising to…”

“I’m sorry, Master,” she corrects herself.

“You are starting to push your luck, Cupcake. You have got away with a few things now, and I don’t want you to start thinking you can push it further. Follow me, we need to go through a couple of things before we can get started.”

Malia starts to rise to follow, however Derek stops her.

“Did I tell you to stand?” She shakes her head, confused over what he’s getting at. “Well stay down then.” At her continued confused expression he elaborates further, “You may crawl.”

A shiver runs through her body. As much as her brain tells her this should feel wrong, crawling on the floor naked while the man is fully dressed and commanding, going against every feminist movement she believes in, she can’t help but feel like this is right.

Even if crawling is much harder than she thought it would be. And the house is much larger than she first thought. Eventually she catches up with Derek, who has taken residence on the couch in the living room.

“So we have already been through a few things, but to reiterate; you say Argent to stop everything, you are my submissive for the next forty-eight hours, and I expect complete obedience. I am going to go through what’s going to happen over the next few days, and you are to speak up at any point you have a question. Understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good girl,” he praises, leaning forwards to stroke her cheek in praise. “You’ve already listed some hard limits, is there anything else you wish to add to the list? Anything you don’t say I will assume is green unless you safe word.” Malia considers for a moment, trying to think of anything else she can’t stand.

“Fisting. And I don’t like the idea of being left alone in bondage.”

“Of course. However what’s your thoughts of being left alone in a cage?”

“I don’t want to be trapped.”

“You can open it from the inside, and I won’t lock it. Is that an ok compromise?”

“Yes, Master.” She is slightly claustrophobic, but the idea of spending time in a cage, out of the way while not needed, has a certain appeal about it.

“Good girl.” He puts a finger under her chin, pulling her head forwards so he can lean down and plant a kiss on her forehead. Another shiver rakes through her body. “Until six pm on Wednesday, you are to be completely mine. I still have to go out to work during the day, but I will be leaving you a list of chores, and I expect you to have dinner cooked for half five. If you have any free time after doing your chores, you are allowed to find a book off my bookshelf in the dining room and read it in your cage – which I will show you later.

“I am going to order takeout tonight and then take you on a tour of the house. Do you have any food allergies?”

“Not food, but I am allergic to plasters, Master.”

“Thank you for letting me know.” Without further explanation Derek leaves. Malia is left feeling lost, unsure if she should be doing anything, when she hears Derek.

“Hey Xing, it’s Derek. Yes, I’m good thanks.” Malia guesses he must be on the phone to someone. “No, the case is still open. Anyway, can I have my usual please? But large instead. Yes, please. Thanks. Something like that,” he chuckles. “Ok. How long will it be? No, that’s fine. See you in a bit.”

Thoroughly confused, Malia waits for Derek to return.

“Come on, I will show you round. You may stand.”

***

Derek’s house is much larger than she first expected. Although from how much he promised to pay her for two days worth of work, she should have guessed he must have a fair amount of money and no idea what to do with it.

He takes her into every room but one, telling her she will see it later. They haven’t come across a cage on her tour, so she assumes that must be in the room as well.

With perfect timing, the doorbell chimes as they start back down the stairs.

“Go grab the kneeling pad from where I showed you and wait where you were earlier.” Malia nods and heads off, wanting to be out of sight by the time Derek answers the door.

She needn’t have worried, as Derek makes sure she has gone before he opens the door anyway.

When he returns to the living room he has a bag of Chinese. The smell alone makes Malia’s stomach rumble, which receives a chuckle from Derek.

“Normally I eat at the table,” he announces as he sits down next to where she is kneeling, putting the takeout on the coffee table in easy reach. “But tonight is a special occasion since it’s your first day. Don’t get used to it though,” he teases.

He starts pulling out containers, and even a disposable plastic plate and cutlery.

“Put the radio on,” he orders as he starts serving up onto a single plate. Malia rises, slightly confused and starts to head through to the kitchen where she saw the radio on the window. “And bring back some drinks. I will have a cola – there should be cans in the fridge – and you can have a glass of water.”

“Yes, Master,” she answers, feeling oddly domestic. She finds a music channel before grabbing two glasses, filling one with water, and a can of pepsi.

Who chooses pepsi over coke?

“Thanks, Cupcake.” Derek takes the empty glass and can as she kneels upon her return, pouring half the fizzy liquid into the drinking glass. He takes a mouthful before setting it down and picking up the plate. Malia watches Derek pick up a bit of rice and chicken, wondering if she is just expected to kneel and watch. Derek didn’t serve her a plate, and there doesn’t appear to a second one to help herself. But why would Derek have asked about allergies if he didn’t intend to give her something?

Her question is answered when he directs the second forkful towards her. She meets the fork half way.

The food is amazing. The chicken is covered in a lemon sauce which is strong enough to taste, but not enough to be overpoweringly bitter. The rice is just ordinary, but it complements the chicken perfectly. And there is just something about being hand fed like this that makes the food taste that little bit better.

She can’t help the moan that escapes her lips. Derek smirks at her, but doesn’t comment further. She makes a mental note to ask what Chinese this is before she leaves; hopefully they would deliver to her apartment as well.

Derek sets into a rhythm of giving himself two bites before passing Malia one, topping up his plate as it empties. She feels like she is getting the short straw, but soon feels full even though Derek is still going.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, sensing Malia is more reluctant to take the food.

“It’s very nice, Master. However I don’t normally eat this much food in one sitting.” Derek nods in reply, going back to the rest of his meal without offering Malia any more. It’s not long before he has also finished, putting the plate down and then his feet following to rest on the coffee table as well. He reaches for the remote to the TV, turning it up loud enough to play over the radio in the background.

“Come closer,” he commands, and Malia shuffles forwards. Derek doesn’t look at her, scrolling through the programs, but he drops his hand to run through her hair. She finds the action soothing, and rests her head on his thigh. Derek doesn’t comment, so she assumes it’s okay.

Malia doesn’t really know what she had expected when she agreed to go with Derek, but this wasn’t it. She had probably anticipated a lot of rough sex and a bit of pain, yet instead she appears to be playing house. And getting around two grand an hour four it. Plus she finds it oddly satisfying, being able to tune out all her real world stress and instead just focus on the hand running through her hair. She doesn’t even know what Derek has decided on watching, and doesn’t have the energy to open her eyes and look.

Malia didn’t realise she had dropped off to sleep until she feels a hand shaking her shoulder.

“Wakey wakey, Cupcake.”

“Uh? What?” She mutters, confused as to where she is. She has been moved from her position on the floor and is now curled up on the couch, her head resting on Derek’s thigh still.

“I left you asleep as you looked so peaceful, however the cheesecake is now defrosted and I didn’t want you to miss out.”

“Oh, umm. Thank you, Master. I’m sorry I dropped off. I didn’t realise I was tired.”

“That’s fine. I’m glad to see you are comfortable enough to drift off. It’s a big compliment to a dom. Right,” he pats her side in a universal signal to move. “I’m going to dish up the cheesecake, while you can tidy this away. Put the chicken and noodles in one tray as they can keep in the fridge, but just bin the rest.” Malia nods, sitting up and clearing the sleep from her eyes.

She puts the chicken in the noodle tray, and gathers the remaining trays into the bag it came in, carrying it all through to the kitchen. She puts the chicken on the counter and is about throw the bag when Derek speaks up.

“Can you take it outside? I don’t want the house stinking of leftovers all night.” Malia looks out the window, listening to the howling wind, before looking at Derek like he’s mad. “Problem?” He asks, standing squarer.

“It’s cold,” she states as if he is stupid. Derek continues to stare at her as though her point doesn’t matter. “I don’t want to go outside naked, it’s cold.”

After several moments of a silent standoff, Derek speaks up.

“I didn’t give you many rules, so it’s hard to believe you’ve forgotten them already,” he growls at her. She stands there for a moment in defiance, but his hard stare makes her back down. She turns in a sulk to open the back door, heading out into the dark and cold unknown in search of a bin.

When she comes back in she is shivering.

Derek is no longer in the kitchen, and the chicken has already been moved, so she heads back through to the living room.

Derek is sat on the couch how he was before, as relaxed as ever watching the news. She goes to kneel next to him but is interrupted.

“No. Naughty girls need corner time. I want you to stand in that corner with your nose touching the wall, hands on your head,” he points to a corner empty of everything.

“I’m not a child,” she strops, stamping her foot for emphasis. Derek gives her a disapproving look.

“I never said you were a child. Besides, you said age play is a limit. However you have agreed to be my submissive, and as your Master I want you in the corner to think about what you have done.”

“But I don’t even know what I did!” She shouts.

“And that’s why you are going to stand in the corner thinking about it.” Derek’s attention goes back to the TV, ignoring Malia.

“This isn’t fair. I’m an adult! You can’t just scold me.” Malia stands there, waiting for a reaction from Derek. When she doesn’t get one she throws her hands in the air, making an noise of exasperation before going to the corner he indicated.

She refuses to put her hands on her head. She isn’t a child, she doesn’t need time out. Besides, she needs to warm up from being outside, so wraps her arms around herself.

Stupid spoilt Derek. Thinks he can do anything.

Making her go out in the cold.

He didn’t even say please.

As though he expects everyone to bend to his will.

_But that is exactly the case; you agreed to be his submissive,_ one part of her brain reasons.

Still, he is being a brooding old man.

_He’s being dominating._

He is still being a masculist.

_That’s not really the case though is it? He isn’t doing it because he thinks men are better, but because he is a dominate alpha. If you want to stop you just say one word._

Stupid alphas.

_You wouldn’t survive your heat without them._

Stupid hot men fucking with her brain.

_You could be fucking the hot man if you get your head out your ass._

Why would I want to?

_Because even this punishment is turning you on._

Fuck it brain, why does it have to be right. Malia finally puts her hands behind her head, her elbows out to either side and touching the wall.

This apparently is the signal Derek was waiting for.

“You can come join me whenever you are ready to apologise.”

“I’m sorry, Master,” she says, turning round and heading back to the kneeling pad. “I’m sorry I wasn’t obedient, despite promising I would be. And I’m sorry for acting out when you picked me up on my error.” She drops her head.

“Thank you. I forgive you. I want to watch the rest of this program, then I will take you up to the playroom and you can try and persuade me to let you earn back your slice of cheesecake. Sound okay?”

“It sound’s good, thank you Master.”

***

She stands behind Derek, almost shaking with anticipation as he opens the door to what he called the playroom.

Her jaw actually drops when she gets her first look at the playroom. The walls are a deep chocolate brown colour, designed to look like wooden panelling. There are several lights around the edge of the room with a red glow, helping create an enticing atmosphere. It’s a stark contrast to the bright lights through the rest of the house, and takes her eyes a few moments to adjust.

To her right is a red cross, which is where she decides to start her exploring. It’s not like a plus sign, more like an x, big enough for her to stand in front of. Looking at it closer, there are cuffs at the end of each post at about the right distance to restrain her arms and legs. She walks over and strokes the wood, working her way down to the soft leather of the ankle cuffs. She doesn’t know what it does, but she defiantly wants to find out.

“The St. Andrews cross,” Derek announces, making her jump. Malia looks over to him where he is still stood near the door. She nods in acknowledgment before standing up and moving to the next piece of equipment.

“This is a stockade?” She questions, recognising the structure. “What it for?”

“For you, if I’m in the mood for it,” he dodges the question. Malia looks at him for a moment with her head cocked, but decides not to push for a further answer; she will probably find out soon enough anyway.

She continues her route round the edge of the room, past a mirror, a chest of draws, and daunting looking chair. She next stops to admire what looks similar to a tool bench, but covered in black leather. She tests it with her weight, and discovers the topping to be relatively cushioning despite it’s ridged look.

The third wall is covered with equipment, from chains to whips to collars, and everything in between.

She looks up over to Derek, who has been observing her every move closely. He doesn’t give any indication that she is doing something wrong, so she picks up one of the whips. This one looks just like what a jockey might use on a horse. She starts to toy with it, swishing it around in the air and listening to the noise it makes. She giggles when she accidentally hits one of the hanging chains, making it jingle with a domino effect through the rest of the equipment.

It makes a pretty sound.

Feeling brave, she gently brings it down on the palm of her other hand, testing the feel. It stings a little, but it’s a pleasant plain – if such a thing was to exist. Getting braver, she tries it a little harder on her thigh.

“Ow,” she squeals, reaching an impressive pitch. She hears a nasally chuckle from behind, reminding her Derek is watching.

“Be careful,” he warns. “I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself before we even get started.”

The warm bubble in her abdomen increases. She puts the crop back before she gets herself into trouble. She moves to the final wall, looking at the object next to Derek.

“The cage.” Derek doesn’t respond, knowing he doesn’t need to.

The cage is much more substantial than she had imagined, with thick black bars running vertically. It isn’t that high, but probably enough for her to sit in without hunching over. It is also a substantial length. Probably not quite enough to lay down straight, but if she tucks her legs up slightly she suspects she would be able to get comfortable. She sleeps in that position anyway.

Finally she turns to the one remaining item in the room, occupying the most space in the middle of the room is a bed. But not just a normal bed, as this one has framework over it with multiple attachment points. It’s high enough that she could stand on the bed and only just be able to reach the frame over the top.

“So, what do you think.”

“I think you have a very high quality room, Master,” she responds, feigning innocence. It’s not a lie though, as every item looks to be worth a fair amount. Derek chuckles, shaking his head at her antics.

“Is there anything you need to say before I make my next move?” He asks, hinting at the word Argent. Malia shakes her head. “I am very glad to hear that. Go sit in the chair.”

***

Derek doesn’t follow her like she had expected, but instead heads to the chest of draws she passed earlier. He stands obscuring her view, unable to see what he is retrieving.

Malia waits patiently in the red chair, placing her wrists on top of the cuffs attached to the arm rests. She is surprised at how soft the chairs padding is considering its strong structure. She guesses everything in this room is probably made to withstand a considerable amount of force.

“For now,” Derek starts, heading over with any items hidden out of view behind his back, “I only want you to feel. Try to relax rather than squirm. Embrace rather than avoid. Do you understand?” Malia nods. “Good girl,” he praises as he raises a piece of fabric to her eyes, taking away her vision. “I promise I will stay in this room the whole time. I do not want to hear a sound from you unless it is a safe word.” He ties the blindfold behind her before the contact disappears.

She starts worrying that he may have left before she feels a breeze over her right nipple. She lets out a small gasp of surprise.

“Sshh,” he blows, feeling the sound as much as she hears it. The draft moves to her left, feeling her nipple slowly harden as it also receives attention. Without her vision she can feel the slightest of disturbance in the air as Derek moves.

“Good girl,” he whispers, now next to her ear. As Derek reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear she tilts her head slightly, making it easier for him. The next thing she knows is Derek chewing on her earlobe. Her instincts want her to jump away, but she remembers Derek command to relax.

Suckling. Not chewing; he is suckling on her lobe. Her first thought is to be weirded out, but instead she finds herself imagining what the scene before her must look like. She is surprised at how intermate the image seems.

Derek is still suckling on her ear as she feels hands at her wrist, one lifting her hand while the other fumbles about below. It’s not until after her hand is placed down does she realise Derek is attaching one of the cuffs to her wrist.

He strokes her hand as he finishes, the electric of the touch replacing the loss of his mouth on her ear as he moves to the next hand. Once her second hand is fastened down she gently tugs at the restraints, testing their unrelenting hold. If desire was audible she wouldn’t be able to hear her thoughts anymore. Not that they are particularly coherent in the first place.

“I’m not going far,” he announces as his contact disappears. Malia listens closely, following his footsteps across the room.

True to his word, he returns shortly. Malia holds her breath in anticipation.

The first sensation she gets is a very light touch over her collar bone. So light she isn’t completely convinced it was real until it starts slowly teasing down her chest.

She allows her head to relax back against the head rest as she swims in the feather light sensations.

“Enjoying that?” Derek asks rhetorically, a smile forming on Malia’s lips. He starts trailing patterns all across Malia’s front. She still can’t quite place the object, but suspects it to be some sort of feather duster.

She moans as he trails the feather downwards, coming to a stop just below her bellybutton. She can’t stop her small thrust, wanting more of… something.

Derek chuckles.

“I don’t know what you are after, but you won’t be getting it like that,” he snickers.

He brings the feather lower, lightly tickling her private region. She bites her lower lip, holding back a moan. She throws her head back against the chair as continues teasing her.

“Please, Master, please!”

“Please what?” he chuckles.

“Please. More. Something…” she gasps as the feather trails over her clit.

With her neck exposed Derek decides to attack the area, nibbling just above her collar bone. Malia knows there will be a bruise there tomorrow, but doesn’t want him to stop.

“You are very riled up considering we have only just started.” Malia moans, unable to comprehend what could happen for the rest of the evening. It could only be eight pm, easily several hours before turning in for the night.

“On a scale of zero to ten, what is your pain tolerance?” Derek asks, all contact leaving Malia.

“Um.. I.. umm…” she stutters. “Well, more than a paper cut, but less than a broken limb, Master.”

“Well, that narrows it down,” he replies with a sarcastic chuckle. “It also wasn’t what I asked.” Without further warning, he pinches Malia’s right nipple. She lets out a gasp of surprise, which turns into a moan of pleasure as he starts to twist. 

“I guess maybe a six or seven, Master.” She rushes out. Derek releases her sensitive flesh, the blood rushing back making her see stars behind the blind fold. She breathes heavily, regaining her breath and trying to collect herself from the jumble of emotions twirling round her mind.

“I will be back in a moment,” he says, patting her thigh before all contact disappears once again.

Malia takes the opportunity to collect her thoughts, knowing that whatever is about to come in the next few hours will be intense. And probably involve pain.

Is she a pain slut? No, she doesn’t think so. But she also didn’t think she would have been so turned on by a feather duster and a chair, so who knows!

Even though the pain doesn’t particularly interest her, the idea of suffering through it because Derek wants her to defiantly does. It doesn’t matter what he is about to do to her, but knowing it’s her job to be a toy that he can mould and do whatever to is enough to keep ‘Argent’ far from the front of her mind.

She doesn’t notice Derek’s return until there is a weight on her lap. She giggles in surprise, the action being unexpected that ever her reaction takes her by surprise. However her giggle is cut short when she feels hand placed around her neck.

Derek starts almost massaging her throat with his thumbs. After a moment he stops his circular motions, pressing slightly harder and restricting her airflow. He doesn’t push so hard as to stop her breathing completely, but it’s enough to notice the reducing oxygen.

It’s only a couple of seconds before he releases the pressure, massaging her windpipe once again.

“You all good?” he asks in concern, checking she is still okay. Malia nods her head, not trusting her voice at the moment. Once again Derek restricts her air flow, slowly increasing the pressure until her breathing is completely stopped. After a couple of seconds he lets go again.

Malia really wishes he would get off her lap, otherwise he is soon going to notice just how wet she has become.

“Take a deep breath,” he warns her, before once again pressing down on her windpipe. This time he doesn’t start gently, but instead goes straight to blocking her airflow.

Even though hasn’t known the man long, and her life is literally in his hands, for some reason she trusts him not to take it too far. However it isn’t until she starts involuntarily gasping does he slowly release the pressure.

“Careful, take shallow breaths otherwise you could pass out from the rush of oxygen,” he warns. It still doesn’t stop her from fighting to take in as much as possible, but Derek’s hands prevent it from happening.

When he releases her this time, he completely removes his hands.

“Good girl,” he praises, and Malia all but preens. Derek’s hand reach up behind her, untangling the knot of her blindfold before slowly pulling the fabric away from her eyes. It takes a moment for Malia’s eyes to adjust. At some point Derek had disposed of his shirt, and she is face to face with his solid body. It’s clear the guy works out, and could easily overpower her. That fact makes her vulnerability that much more thrilling.

She tries to reach for his six pack, curious to find out what it feels like, but the pull of the cuffs quickly reminds her the she can’t. Instead she is left almost drawling at the sight.

Derek laughs in amusement.

“Look all you like, but no touching.”

Ever the obedient girl, Malia looks. She starts at his v, disappearing beneath his tented pants. A shiver runs through her, realising what she is doing to the all powerful mysterious man. She skips over his taut six-pack.

Derek’s pecks stand out to her next, slightly tanned skin almost filled to bursting with the muscle underneath. His nipples stand to attention against the pinkened area. Malia’s mouth starts watering, wondering what the textured skin would feel like against her tongue.

As she passes his shoulder she sees the ripple of muscle as Derek fiddles with the blindfold. Her eyes linger on his lips, remembering the feel of them against her neck as he bit the skin. Finally she comes to a stop at his eyes, staring into the depths of green. Malia is surprised at how colourful they are in comparison to the dark aura he seems to admit.

“Like what you see?” he teases.

“Yes, Master.” Malia looks away in embarrassment.

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Besides, I want you looking at me before I start again.”

Again? He had removed the blindfold, didn’t that mean it was over?

Curious to find out what is in store next, she looks back at him.

“Good girl.”

He raises the blindfold, but this time wraps it around her throat. He pulls it taut behind her, but not so much to restrict her breathing just yet. He grabs the ends with one hand, holding the fabric securely.

Slowly, he raises his spare hand to her throat, forcing her head slightly upwards to accommodate for the width of his palm.

“Keep looking into my eyes,” he commands. Once she obliges he increases the pressure, pulling the blindfold tight as well as pushing his hand into her throat.

He shuffles his buttocks slightly, finding a more comfortable position for himself. _That’s alright for him_ she thinks to herself, having a man squashing her legs and restricting her breathing.

As the time increases Malia starts to get more and more uncomfortable. She starts trying to gasp for air, but rather than release her, this time Derek presses harder. He continues to hold her, even as she starts bucking to try and get him off.

Malia is almost completely out of breath, and her thrashing increases tenfold. Maybe she was wrong to trust this guy, who is about to kill her!

“Look into my eyes,” he reminds her, Malia not having realised she shut them. She opens them again, finding the energy from somewhere.

She starts kicking her legs, not knowing what that will achieve but needing to try something to remove Derek from her neck.

Just as she feels like she is about to pass out, her eyes starting to role back, Derek removes his hand.

He still keeps hold of the blindfold, not letting her completely off the hook, but able to get enough oxygen to stop her from fainting. He slowly starts to release his grip, still controlling the oxygen she is allowed access to.

Eventually she is able to form coherent thoughts, realising that she is still alive and that Derek stopped just in time. Her trust in him increases slightly when she realises that he was watching for that moment before she passed out, but was trying to push her to the limit.

After a couple of minutes, he releases the blindfold completely.

They stay there in silence for a further few minutes, Malia regaining her breath while Derek just stares.

“What did you think of that?” he asks, as if the _puddle_ on the chair doesn’t say it all.

“I-“ She is interrupted as she feels a pinch on her nipple, Derek attaching something he retrieved from behind him as he spoke. She can’t speak around her moan as he attaches a clip to her other nipple, a chain connecting the two.

“I asked you a question,” he commands, slightly tugging at the middle of the chain in warning.

“I thought, uggh, it was… it was.. was very interesting… very… very good,” she stutters out between breathes, Derek rolling the chain between his fingers sending strange sensations through her body, unable to concentrate on what she is saying.

“I’m very glad to hear.” He smiles, and Malia could almost fall in love with that look. “Do you need a break or are you ok to continue?” he asks, seeming to actually care about what she says. Derek is a very different man to most the clients she sees, who have more of a wham-bang-thankyou-ma’am kind of attitude towards her.

She doesn’t know if she needs a moment to collect herself or not, which of course means she knows her answer.

“I want whatever you want,” she replies honestly, completely slipping into the role of submissive.

“Well, what I want is for you to lay on your back on the bed,” he decides, rising up off her and starting to undo the cuff on her right hand, “while I go and retrieve some equipment for what I plan next.” He rubs her hand, checking the circulation in her fingers before moving to her left wrist. “You have until I return to collect yourself and get in position.”

With that he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

Malia is grateful that he remembered not to leave her in bondage, as per her request at the beginning of the night. He may be a scary demanding alpha, but he does listen to what she said, and he does seem to care about how she feels.

She rises from the chair, taking a moment to stretch her muscles before making her way to the bed.

She climbs on over the red satin sheets, positioning herself in the centre of the double bed to await his return.

She feels almost as though she is an elaborate meal put on display, waiting to be devoured by the Master of the house.

Feeling a little cheeky, she gets up of the bed and hunts through the draws. Eventually she finds a piece of fabric long enough for what she wants it for, and takes it back to the bed with her, just in case Derek arrives before she is finished and she isn’t where he requested.

Once sat on the bed she loops the fabric around her neck, loosely so not to restrict her breathing like only a few moments ago. She ties the fabric in a large bow, positioned slightly to the side, to hopefully give Master a pleasant surprise.

She holds her breath when she hears him ascending the stairs. As he opens the door she completely freezes, not daring to move a muscle in anticipation of Derek’s reaction.

Derek freezes as his eyes land on Malia, presented on the bed with her bow. Finally Derek reacts, chuckling at her antics.

“You cheeky cupcake,” he teases with a smile, and Malia beams knowing she was the one to bring that smile to his lips. He puts down whatever he was carrying on the nearest surface before leaping over to the bed, jumping up and landing with legs and arms straddling him. Almost animalistically he rips at the bow with his teeth, undoing it in one go. He then grabs the fabric, using it to secure her arms to an eye bolt in the headboard.

“That’s better, you can’t get up to any mischief now,” he teases as he dismounts the bed. He quickly tickles her feet as he leaves, Malia kicking out in an involuntary reaction.

“Hey! That’s not fair, _Master,_ ” she pouts with a smile.

“Oh well, _I’m_ not fair,” he teases back. Malia decides she likes this side of her Master; almost as much as the brooding dominate persona she has seen until now.

Derek is doing something out of her view when she smells smoke. This causes her a moment of panic before Derek turns around, holding two lit candles, with another couple still on the unit he dumped everything on when he entered.

“Mood lighting, of course,” he says with a smirk, suggesting there is something more to it that Malia can’t quite understand. He places one candle each side of the bed, just far enough to the side so that the cover does not catch fire.

He returns to the unit, picking up a tub without a lid, but leaving the other candles where they are. He balances the tub on the headboard, out of Malia’s line of sight.

Climbing onto the bed, he straddles her hips, almost sitting on her but still supporting most of his weight himself.

He leans forwards, taking the forming hicky in his mouth. His hands are placed either side of her head, making her feel captured. Secured. And most surprisingly: safe. She allows herself to get lost in the pleasant sensations.

So much so that she misses when he moves his hand and retrieves something from the Tupperware box.

She gasps when she feels a shocking cold on her nipple, a stark contrast to the warm room that had already started to melt the ice cube now on her breast.

Once Derek decides her nipple has had enough, he swaps to the other, still sucking at the spot on her neck. Even though the ice cube has melted dramatically from when he first retrieved it, it feels just as cold on her second nipple.

He stays at her neck until the cube completely melts, dampening the duvet beneath them. He sits up, dropping his weight on her hips with a smirk.

Malia can’t help but rut up against his clothed rear, hunting out any kind of friction she can get. Does this guy not know her heat is tomorrow! The constant level of frustration is starting to drive her insane.

“Stop that, or I’m going to have to make you stop,” he orders. Try as she might, Malia can’t help trying for one more thrust, using her feet to push her up further and almost dislodge Derek. He tuts, and Malia almost, _almost,_ feels guilty for disobeying. Derek climbs of the bed heading over to the wall containing all the leather.

“I was intending on spanking you tonight, but I changed my mind earlier. Don’t think I won’t change it back if you push me. However, I can’t have you thrusting when I said no, so I am going to cuff your legs to the bed posts, so you won’t be able to get the momentum you really need to go for it,” he explains as he heads back, black leather cuffs in hand.

Malia debates putting up a fight for fun, but decides she would rather go back to the ice cubes than have the whip.

No doubt the whip will come out at some point in the two days she is with Derek, but she can try to postpone it for now.

Derek fastens her legs to the bottom of the bed before resuming his previous position, straddling Malia’s hips.

He reaches up to grab another ice cube. Malia watches as he slowly brings it down to her skin, placing it above her heart. She gasps on contact, the cold still surprising her. He trails the cube down to her belly button, taking a weaving path that leaves behind some of the melted water.

He changes his position, now kneeling between Malia’s legs so he can bring his tongue to lap at the water trail. The slightly rough texture of his warm tongue is such a different sensation to the cool ice cube, it sends a visual shiver through her body. Derek laughs, but continues in his mission to lap up all the water. Once finish he sits up on his knees with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Are you ready?” he challenges.

“Ready for wha-“ Malia is interrupted as Derek leans forwards, reaching into the tub once again. He pops an ice cube into his mouth, holding it between his teeth.

He leans down, running the ice cube across Malia’s lips.

While distracted by the almost kiss, he takes a second hidden cube and places it directly on her clit. Malia parts her lips with a gasp, and Derek drops the ice cube from between his teeth into her mouth. Her body is receiving so many signals it takes her a moment to process it all. There is the cold on her clit, making her tense. There is the ice melting in her dry mouth, rehydrating her cheeks. And of course there is Derek on her lips, demanding access that she can’t help but grant, the ice cube almost forgotten as they explore each other’s mouths.

They continue this way until the cube on her clit melts, and she finally gets the first feeling of Derek’s hands on her intimate areas, causing her to moan which is quickly swallowed by Derek.

He detaches himself from her, despite Malia’s effort to follow his retreating lips. Derek chuckles patronisingly.

“I don’t want you getting too cold,” he announces coyly, reaching down to the floor. Malia forgot he put a candle there earlier until she sees him reveal it. Confused, Malia cocks her head as she watches him hold it above her and starts to tip the candle.

Is he trying to warm her up?

It’s not until she sees the melted wax starting to pool at the tip that she realises what’s about to happen. She starts squirming, but of course that doesn’t stop the wax from starting to drip.

It feels as though it falls in slow motion, landing squarely on the centre of her stomach. She lets out a hiss at the hot contact, holding her breath as it cools to a more tolerable temperature. Derek balances the candle between her boobs, blocking her sight of the solidifying wax.

After a couple of minutes he uses his nail to pick at the cooled wax, pulling her skin as it detaches, almost as painful as when it first landed.

“Beautiful,” he comments, looking at the mark the wax left. “Let’s see what I can draw.”

He picks the candle up before Malia can process his words, already starting to tip it so the wax drops.

This time in lands much higher, above her breast. He trails the wax in a continuous stream, creating the letter ‘M’ in red wax.

Malia looks away for the rest of the word, the pain level increasing as he continues.

“Damn it,” he mutters under his breath, the wax having stopped. Derek shifts his weight, leaning down to reach the candle from the other side of the bed. Malia watches as he rises back up, fresh candle in hand with plenty of melted wax. She shuts her eyes before he continues his design, hissing as she feels him start once again.

Eventually he reaches the other side of her chest, finishing the word – whatever it may be.

“Stunning. But it needs something more…” he comments. Malia doesn’t think it was intended for her ears, so she doesn’t comment.

She feels Derek’s weight leave the bed but she doesn’t open her eyes to confirm it. Instead she is focused on the burning on her chest, decreasing as the wax starts to cool. She thinks about the fact that she is currently Derek’s canvas, the wax being his chosen tool. She tugs at the fabric restraining her arms, not really to try and escape, but instead to remind herself that she is at this man’s mercy. The freedom to let her mind wonder while she is used for this man’s - her Master’s - pleasure brings her a sense of peace that she couldn’t begin to explain. She barely notices when he returns, now using the wax on her abdomen.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Derek calls her name. It takes a couple of times for her to realise and for her to open her eyes. She is confident she wasn’t asleep, but couldn’t explain what happened.

“Hey, Cupcake. You back with me?” Malia nods, still is a haze of peace. “I think you may have been on the verge of subspace.” Malia gives a questioning look, having not heard of it before. “I can explain it to you after work tomorrow, but just know that it brings me an immense amount of pride that you almost reached it. It’s one of the greatest compliments to a Dom; at least in my opinion.” He smiles at her, and she can’t help but smile back, even though she doesn’t understand. “I wanted to show you what you look like before I take it off. Do you mind if I take a photo of you? I promise I won’t share it. Although I can’t promise that I won’t keep it – you do look exquisite.” Malia nods her consent, wanting to know what she looks like.

Derek leaves her for a moment, fetching his phone.

He spends several minutes – almost reaching double figures – taking photos from different angles, untying Malia and getting her to pose in different ways.

“Ah ha! That’s the one. I might even get it printed and framed, keep it as a memento to remind me of this, albeit very expensive, couple of days. Come look,” he instructs, and Malia moves to kneel behind him at the end of the bed.

She gasps at the sight, almost unable to believe that it is her in the picture. She is kneeling with her hands behind her back. Her head is up, but mostly obscured by her hair, hanging in front of her. Close friends and family might recognise her, but she doubts her classmates would.

But what really draws her attention is the artwork on her body. Across her chest reads ‘Master’s’ in red cursive wax. Malia raises her hand, running it over the wax that still remains on her body.

Her stomach is covered in blue, red and orange flowers, with detailing from the red candles.

“It’s amazing, Master,” she says in awe, unable to believe such artwork could be made from dripping wax. Is it self absorbed to be turned on by yourself?

“Well, it has taken a few hours.”

“Hours!” Malia gasps, unaware she was out for so long. “What’s the time?”

“It’s just gone eleven pm.”

“Eleven…” she breathes. Derek chuckles.

“Right, anyway. It’s time for bed-“

“Bed!” She interrupts. At Derek’s glare she apologises. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“Yep. I haven’t got to leave for work until nine, but I want an early morning to be able to make the most of my temporary possession,” he drawls, giving Malia goose bumps at the objectification.

“But… sex?” she stutters.

“What about it?”

“Is that not what you wanted me for?”

“Oh, silly Cupcake. I wanted you for much more than that. Besides, you are no where near desperate enough yet.”

“But… it’s my heat tomorrow-“

“I am aware. But my point still stands.”

“But-“

“Hush. Unless you want to start tomorrow with a punishment,” he teases. “Let’s get you settled in,” he says, reaching for the clamps she had almost forgotten about. He releases them gently, but does not stop the pain as blood rushes to her nipple. He unclasps the second one before she is recovered, and the pain level increases dramatically. She can’t hold back the groan of pain, needing it to stop quickly. She goes to cup her nipples in the hopes that maybe adding a bit of pressure will help, but Derek grabs her hands to stop her. She pouts in frustration, but he continues to ignore her wishes.

Derek stands up off the bed, holding Malia’s wrist to drag her up as well. “I want you to leave the wax on overnight, lets get you settled in.”

He leads Malia over to the cage, opening the large door at the end. He looks at Malia expectantly, who stares back in confusion.

“I’m told the best way to enter is to crawl…” he hints. Malia stares back, questions filling her head. He is going to leave her in here to sleep! However she is tired, and it’s a battle to fight another day. She kneels down, crawling in.

Derek leaves her for a moment, collecting something from a draw before returning and kneeling at the entrance.

“Give me your hands,” he requests. Reluctantly she places her right hand in his, before he pushes on a large mitten, almost the same as a boxing glove. “I can’t have you getting yourself off overnight, and I can’t yet trust you not to, so I’m making sure you can’t.” He padlocks – _padlocks_ – the glove round her wrist, pulling it to check it won’t slip off. “Other hand,” he requests, dropping her right. There is no point fight now, so she hands it over for him to put on the other glove.

Once it’s locked on, he stands and shuts the cage door.

“I’m not locking it like I usually would, but unless there is a valid reason you are to stay in here until I allow you out, understood?”

“Yes, Master.”

Derek starts going about tiding up the room, Malia watching from her position on the floor. Well, there is a thin mattress in the cage that is surprisingly comfortable, so she guesses it isn’t quite on the floor. Still, there is not blanket or pillow, so it’s not exactly as comfortable as a bed. One of which she can see from where she is. Her eyes follow Derek, pouting at him as he tidies up the equipment they used.

Why does Derek want her in the cage when there is a perfectly suitable bed she could use?

“Night night,” Derek coos at her, ignoring her sorry look. He turns the light out as he leaves, shutting the door and plunging her into completed, frustrated, darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

She is woken up by hands dragging her. Confused, she tries to scratch at her attacker to break free before encountering fabric encasing her hands.

Blearily she opens her eyes, blinking a couple of times to try and remove the sleep that has collected overnight. She looks up at her attacker… her very naked attacker, and everything starts coming back to her.

The domineering alpha, who’s paying to own her for a few days, who took her into a new world of emotions last night.

She stops fighting and lets herself be dragged out, the carpet scratching at her sensitive breasts as she is completely removed from the cage; the cage she was locked in overnight, even if it was a mental lock rather than a physical one. Even though she is not yet awake, her body is reacting to the naked alpha in front of her.

When he stops dragging her she rises to her knees, ready to do whatever Master asks, her heat starting to build up already.

“God, I can smell it on you…” Derek speaks, his lust as clear as day.

“Please Master…” she begs, picking up her level of desperation from yesterday. She can tell that there is still a few hours until she enters the main part of her heat, currently still having control of her thoughts, but she can feel the need building.

“This is much closer to how I wanted you,” he drawls, a hand running down to cup her chin and lift her head. Malia keeps her eyes downwards, meaning she is level with his manhood.

She starts to drool, eyeing the flesh that is already standing to attention. Malia is very pleased to discover he is clean shaven, hating the feeling of the wiry hairs when servicing a client. She also notes that he is circumcised, an attribute she finds aesthetically pleasing.

This is a body she wouldn’t mind coming back to for second helpings.

“Please…” she begs. Wanting… something. Anything. With the only warning being the trembling of his legs, he pushes forward, continuing to hold Malia’s head. He is just in reach for Malia to nuzzle at the tip, giving the straining flesh little kitten licks.

She feels a sense of pride when Derek moans above.

Gaining confidence, she shuffles forwards to be in better reach, Derek releasing her chin to tangle his hands in her hair.

“Good girl,” he praises. Malia takes the head between her lips, suckling at his member. She shuffles her knees again to allow herself to find the most comfortable position. She makes a move to cup his balls before remembering the casing over her hands, dropping them back down to the floor.

She pops herself of his penis to run her tongue along the length of his shaft, amused when she notices the shiver sent down his legs.

She takes his dick in her mouth once again, angling it so his tip hits the roof of her mouth. Through experience she learnt that it feels almost exactly the same as deep throating, and if the man wasn’t paying attention, like so few do, she could easily get away with it and save her throat.

Derek however was watching her with a close eye, and decided he wanted to take over the conducting. Griping her hair tighter, he starts to set the pace, angling her head slightly downwards so each thrust reaches her throat, stopping just before the level she would class as deep throating.

He starts steadily, giving her plenty of time to breathe between thrusts and prepare for the next.

“How’s your gag reflex?” he asks. Malia mumbles out a response of ‘unreliable’, but it just comes out as a mumble around his length. The vibrations cause him to moan, pushing Malia’s head further forwards than it has gone so far. Unprepared, Malia does start to gag, but Derek backs of after only a moment of sputtering.

“Relax,” is her only warning before he surges forwards again, going further this time. Malia swallows around the length, using her tongue to stroke the underneath. He pulls off just in time.

“On the bed,” he commands, letting go of her. Malia quickly scurries over to the four-poster, centring herself in the middle on her back.

Derek almost bounds over, jumping up between her spread legs.

“Hands,” he requests, wanting to release her from the mittens he attached last night. Once they are undone he throws them to the floor, forgotten about for the time being.

Malia can tell that Derek is affected by her oncoming heat as much as she is.

He lowers himself down, nuzzling at her dampening area and inhaling deeply.

“Eew…” she breathes, slightly grossed out. No guy has done that before, many refusing to touch her unless to line themselves up.

“You smell delicious, I could almost eat you up,” he drawls. Malia isn’t confident that he really is aware of what he is saying. She feels a draft as he gently blows over her sensitive area, before a tongue trails over her clit, teasing her.

“Master, please…” she begs, needing more.

He laps at her opening. If Malia wasn’t so turned on she would find it slightly strange that the dominant alpha was eating out the submissive omega. But she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She feels strong hands at her hips before she is yanked downwards, Derek having had enough and wanting to move on.

 _Finally,_ she thinks as he positions himself in line to take her at last. _I’ve only been wanting this for over twelve hours!_

“I meant to ask; are you on birth control?” He shouts out, struggling to refrain himself. Malia is surprised at his frequent considerate moments.

“Y—yes,” she stutters out, as horny as Derek is. “Just, get in me!” she shouts.

“Now, now. That’s very demanding for a sub…” he scolds.

“Please, Master. Please, fuck me. Fuck your submissive, Master. You own me, please show me just how muc-“ her sentence breaks off as he finally - _finally!_ – enters her for the first time.

She can feel every inch as it enters, every grove on his flesh, every pulse of blood running through them both.

She moans. Loud.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Uh huh,” she nods, her hands looping up to grip onto Derek’s shoulders for traction.

For all the build up, it is over relatively quickly. He cums after only a couple of deep thrusts, removing himself and then rubbing Malia’s clit until she reaches orgasm as well.

Malia wants to be disappointed, but instead just basks in the pleasure still rolling through her body. It is one of the best orgasms she has ever had, and she still has thirty hours or so left with this alpha.

“For breakfast I want two bacon sandwiches, three slices in each. You may have one sandwich with three slices. I will join you once I’m dressed.” Derek breaks the silence, patting her leg as he rises from where he collapsed on top of her.

Without further comment, he leaves the room, not for a moment expecting her disobey.

Reluctantly, with great effort, she rises and perches on the edge of the bed. With a deep sigh she makes her way downstairs, aware of Derek’s cum starting to drip down her leg but doubting she has the time to sort it.

Master want’s her breakfast and nothing will delay him. Not even her post orgasm bliss.

She makes her way to the kitchen, searching through the cupboards to find a frying pan and fetching the bacon from the fridge. The pan isn’t quite large enough to do all the bacon in one go, so she puts Derek’s six slices in first.

As she potters about the kitchen to fetch the loaf of bread she feels Derek’s cum dripping all the way to the floor, almost leaving a trail behind her. She just knows Derek will make her clear it up.

As she starts to butter the bread, Derek makes his appearance. He is dressed in a suit with a plain red tie. A tie Malia recognises as what she used as a bow last night. She can’t stop herself from staring.

“I’m glad you appreciate my dress,” Derek comments, tucking the tie into his jacket. This breaks Malia’s trance, and she goes back to the bread as Derek takes a seat at the breakfast bar, watching Malia cook.

“Do you have any sauce, Master?” she asks, trying to continue her job without allowing herself to become more distracted – the gentle dripping from between her legs is enough of a distraction as it is.

“Brown sauce,” he replies. It certainly isn’t Malia’s preference, but she collects in none the less. She finishes spreading it just as the bacon is done, letting some of the fat drip off before placing the piece on the bread.

She carries the plate over the Derek, putting it on the breakfast counter before returning to cook hers.

Once she has placed the bacon in the already heated pan she turns around to look a Derek, leaning against the counter behind her.

Derek finishes his mouthful before addressing her.

“You have made quite the mess on my nice clean floors,” Derek comments mischievously, as though he didn’t cause it intentionally. “You can clean it up while waiting for your bacon. Think of it as an appetiser,” he smirks. It takes Malia a moment to work out that he expects her to lick it up. He mind is grossed out at the thought, but her body betrays her by having a completely different feeling.

Slowly she lowers herself to her hands and knees, leaning down to start lap at the largest puddle in front of the stove.

She notices Derek watching her, one hand holding his sandwich and the other palming himself through his pants. Feeling mischievous she wiggles her backside teasingly. Derek laughs at her antics, but doesn’t comment.

She makes her way over to the next biggest puddle by the fridge. The slimy liquid has a weird texture on her tongue, and tastes salty, but more surprisingly she finds it to be quite sweet, completely contradicting what she was expecting. She wouldn’t swallow it by choice, but it’s not entirely unpleasant. Especially knowing that Derek is enjoying her little show.

Finally she cleans up most the mess, making a mental note to mop the floors later once Derek is out at work.

Just in time, as her bacon is ready. She plates it up and cuts the sandwich in half.

“Come sit with me,” Derek instructs, patting his lap. She walks over to him, putting her plate next to his and climbing up to sit sideways on his lap. She picks up half the sandwich before leaning into his chest, snuggling up to him.

She nibbles are her food while Derek finishes the rest of his, one hand wrapped behind her back to hold her securely. Malia feels the most relaxed in ages, despite it being the day of her heat.

She sighs in contentment, Derek placing a light kiss on her forehead. Derek has finished his breakfast by the time Malia starts on her second half, so he wraps his second arm around her legs, jostling her slightly to put her in a more comfortable position.

Malia could almost fall asleep sat like this. Comfortable, safe, and protected. She finishes her sandwich, leaving the crusts as she is full anyway.

“You finished?” Derek asks, and she nods into his shoulder. “Shall we pull this wax off you now?” he asks rhetorically, lifted Malia of his lap and onto the counter as though she weighed nothing.

Derek retrieves the butter knife she used, and wipes the excess sauce on a cloth. He uses the blunt tool to pick away at the wax, some of which has fallen off overnight although most of it remains. Malia holds her breath as he works his way at the flowers, bits of cracked wax falling to the floor below. Once he has removed all the flowers he dusts at her stomach, sending bits of detached wax flying. He places a gentle kiss to her stomach before moving up to the ‘Master’s’ dripped across her chest. He picks at it, eliciting a few gasps from Malia as it pulls at her skin, before finally she is completely bare once again.

“There we go,” he comments, running his hand over her front to check there is no remaining wax. “I think I want to take a few more pictures of you with these nice read marks,” he says, pulling his phone out his pocket as he rises from the stool to get the right angle.

He manhandles her into the position he wants, her legs on the stool, one draped over the other, and her elbow on her knee, head resting against her hand with a seductive smile.

“Perfect,” he says after taking a couple on snaps, pocketing his phone. He lifts her of the counter and places her feet firmly on the ground. “I just need you to sort this for me,” he starts cupping his crotch, “and then I will be heading to work.”

Malia nods, dropping down to her knees in front of him. She unzips his trousers and lets his manhood pop free.

She gets to work quickly, using her hands as well as her mouth this time. She doesn’t know how long he has until needing to get to work, but she doesn’t be the one to blame for him being late.

Eventually he cums, Malia swallowing it down as if her life depends on it. It tastes better than the cum that was on the floor, having come direct from the source. Once he finishes she pulls of, licking her lips to catch anything that she has missed.

“You certainly have talent,” he smiles, praising her oral skills. “Unfortunately I need to head off to work now.” He runs his hand down the side of her face in a caring gesture as she zips his flies back up, fastening the button at the top. “I have left a list on top of the cage in the playroom with what I need you to do today, and I also need you to clear the wax up,” he lists as retrieves his shoes from the back door. “There is a mug soup in the cupboard you may have for lunch, whatever flavour you wish, and I think it is fair to say you have earnt your cheesecake; there is a slice on the top shelf in the fridge. I expect dinner to be ready to serve when I return, sometime between half five and six; you have a bit of leeway as I can’t predict the traffic on a Tuesday and don’t expect you to know the exact time I will walk through the door. If you have any free time you are welcome to find a book and take it to your cage and relax for a bit. Any questions?” Malia shakes her head, thinking that she has followed it all. Chores, clean the kitchen floor, and cook dinner for just before six. “Good girl. Behave and I will see you later,” he reaches for her chin, kissing her forehead, before grabbing his coat on the way out. Malia hears him lock the door behind him, and takes a moment to evaluate.

Her mind was stuck at ‘your cage’, the idea sending a thrill through her. She could almost see herself doing this full time, not something she has ever thought about a client before. But Derek is caring and considerate, while having an unwavering dominance beneath the surface. If it wasn’t for the fact she had a real life she must live, she would love to become his full time submissive.

Although, many omegas do devote their life to one alpha; it wouldn’t be unheard of if she did.

Still, it’s not the life she has planned out for herself. She sighs, pushing the thought out of her mind and starting on tiding up from breakfast.

***

The chores were relatively basic after she had mopped the kitchen. She vacuums and dusts, and cleans the buildings three toilets, all the while still naked, not having any suitable clothes to throw on. Besides, she thinks that’s what Derek expects off her anyway. 

Having completed the list she checks the time on the grandfather clock in the hallway. It’s only two pm so she makes up a chicken mug shot and grabs a book from the family room, taking them both, along with the cheesecake, up to her – _her_ – cage. She also grabs a blanket from the cupboard she discovered while dusting, hoping Derek won’t be too annoyed with her, and disappears up to the playroom to read for a few hours before starting on cooking.

She gets so engrossed in the book that she almost loses track of time, not helped by the fact there is no natural light filtering into the room. Only when she notices the landing outside the room to have darkened does she realise it is getting late. She crawls out of the cage, leaving the book and blanket inside in the hopes that Derek lets her keep them for the evening. She picks up the mug and plate and makes her way down to the kitchen.

The clock she passes shows half past four, so she has enough time to get something cooked without Derek needing to know that she lost track of the passing hours.

In the kitchen she washes the dishes, using a tea towel to dry them so they can be put away instantly.

She looks through the cupboards in search of inspiration for a meal. She all about decides on hunters chicken before remembering they had bacon for breakfast and having to hunt for something else.

While she is a student, and students aren’t known for their vast cooking knowledge, she manages to get together a respectable meal of lasagne with sweet potato fries and a side salad. And there should be enough lasagne to freeze some for her Master to eat later in the week.

The meal is ready at five-fifty, and she turns the oven down in the hopes of keeping it warm until Derek arrives. She sets up the table for one while she waits for her Master to return.

It is only a few minutes before she hears a key in the lock. She sprints back to the kitchen from the dining room to start severing up, dishing out the fries as Derek enters the kitchen.

“It smells lovely,” he praises, coming up behind her and resting his hands on her hips possessively.

“Thank you, Master. I hope you find it tastes as good as it smells.”

“Mmm, so do I.” He bites down on her shoulder, scraping his teeth over her skin. She shivers, hands coming to grip the counter to support her weakening knees.

“I should save my dessert for after my mains I think,” he says into her shoulder, kissing the abused skin before standing back and allowing Malia to take the plate through to the dinning room. She places the serving on the table before kneeling next to the chair on the pillow she placed there earlier.

Derek smiles at her before taking his seat.

“I am pleasantly surprised,” he says after his first bite. “This is a very nice meal.”

“There should be enough left so you can freeze it, Master. You can reheat it whenever you don’t feel like cooking.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” he praises, passing down a loaded fork for Malia. She is glad to see he is feeding her again, loving the feeling of being looked after by the protective, if slightly scary, alpha.

She takes the mouthful offered only to regret the decision immediately.

“Hot?” Derek chuckles sarcastically. Malia nods, struggling to eat what she has as Derek returns to his meal.

The next bite she is offered Derek blows on it first to cool it down. Malia blushes in embracement, but takes the food anyway.

“Better?” Derek smirks.

“Thankyou, Master,” she replies once she has finished the bite. Derek ruffles her hair before taking his next mouthful.

The rest of the meal continues that way, Derek blowing on Malia’s food even once she is sure it must be cool enough.

“Clear this away and package up any leftovers, then come join me,” Derek instructs once he finishes, patting her shoulder as he leaves the room.

Malia rises to her feet, taking a moment to stretch her stiff legs before doing as asked.

She washes the dishes and leaves them on the draining board to put away at a later point. Drying her hands, having already stored the leftovers in the freezer, she heads through to join Derek in the lounge.

She is about to kneel down when he stops her.

“Come sit up here with me,” he commands, patting the spot on the couch beside him. Slightly confused she joins him, snuggling up to his side. “Good girl. What have you done today?” He asks conversationally. The T.V. is playing in the background, but all of Derek’s attention is on Malia.

“Um, well. I did as you told me, Master…” she answers dubiously.

“It’s not a test,” Derek chuckles. “Did you get any time to read? I hope I didn’t leave you too much to do?”

“You didn’t leave me too much, Master. I had time to read.”

“What did you pick?”

“Umm, The story of O, Master,” she whispers, embarrassed by her choice of the BDSM erotica book.

“A very good choice,” Derek praises. Malia can’t help but preen under the little bit of praise, happy that she had managed to please her Master. “Are you enjoying it?”

“It defiantly has an interesting plot, but unfortunately I didn’t get very far before I started on cooking. I, um, I have left it in my cage Master, in case there is another opportunity to read it later. Is that ok?”

“Of course it is,” Derek smiles.

“How was, how was your day, Master?” Malia asks, unsure if she is permitted to ask questions but wanting to carry on the conversation. She could listen to Derek talk all day.

“It was very stressful, Cupcake. But it’s okay because I knew I would get to come home to you.” He pulls Malia in closer, and she goes willingly.

After a few minutes of silence he relaxes his hold, his attention back on the television. Malia decides to shuffle down and lay her head in his lap.

She relaxes further when Derek starts stroking her hair. She tries to pay attention to the T.V., but with sports not being her thing anyway she ends up daydreaming while Derek continues to stroke her hair.

“Master?” she asks, remembering a question about something last night. Derek grunts, so Malia continues. “Can I ask a question?”

“You can ask, yes.”

“Last night, when I was almost asleep but not, you said I might have been on the edge of subspace. What is that?”

“Oh, you don’t know,” he starts, turning his attention completely to Malia. “It’s a place you enter when you are completely relaxed and immersed in a scene. And you have to have complete trust in your dominant as in that place most subs are incapable of making decisions about your own safety or wellbeing.”

“Oh,” Malia replies, lost in thought. She almost reached subspace. With a guy she has known for just over twenty four hours.

“It’s also a mathematical term in which one vector space is contained completely inside another. But that isn’t what I was on about last night,” he chuckles.

“I assume you studied math, Master?”

“That was my major, yes. In particular statistics, but I did have an increased interest in linear calculus when the lecturer started talking about subspace; even if it wasn’t my best area.”

“Wow. My only math interest is in counting money.” Malia had passed math, but hated every moment of it.

“What did you study?”

“I’m actually still studying. A major in journalism with a minor in criminology.”

“An interesting choice. What are you hoping to do?”

“Truth be told, Master, I’m probably going to continue with what I’m currently doing. It pays better than anything else…” she says sadly. Derek goes quiet, but Malia doesn’t push to find out why.

She turns her attention back to the T.V., now on the news. It’s been a while since she has kept up with what was going on in the world around her, the stories normally winding her up to the point of stressing, but while feeling safe in Derek’s company she opts to pay attention.

“Is there anything you wish to try tonight?” Derek asks, seemingly out of the blue.

“I’m sorry, Master. What do you mean?”

“Tonight is the last night. Is there any scene you wish to try, any kink you want to test out?” Malia thinks for a moment, trying to rake through her brain to find anything.

“I want whatever you want, Master,” she answers honestly.

“Up you get then,” he says, patting her bum lightly. “I want you to follow me through to my playroom.”

***

“Kneel,” Derek commands the minute they reach the playroom. Malia does without hesitation, looking forwards to whatever the evening may entail.

From behind her, Derek loops something around her neck. Malia doesn’t object, feeling a buckle being done up behind her. She tries to look at the material but instead just ends up looking like a dog trying to chase its tail.

However it isn’t until Derek laughs at her, having made his way to now stand in front, does she realise what she was doing. She ducks her head in embarrassment, blood rushing to her cheeks.

“You look adorable,” Derek coos, stepping forward to lift up her chin. Reluctantly she rises her eyes to look at him, and is surprised when she sees how… proud?... he seems. The look out of place to the laughing. “Let me show you,” he says when Malia doesn’t seem convinced.

Derek steps back, reaching in his back pocket to pull out his phone. He quickly snaps a photo before showing the phone to Malia.

She is quite shocked at the sight on the screen. Dare she say; she looks hot! Derek had placed a black collar around her neck, settling neatly above her shoulders. Now she has seen the photo of herself, it’s obvious he placed a leather collar on her, now able to recognise the smell. It must be a rather new collar, the leather being very stiff and still with its strong smell.

Derek pockets his phone and pushes a finger between the collar and her skin. Apparently deciding something is wrong he moves behind her to undo the buckle, tightening it up so while it doesn’t restrict Malia’s breathing it is a constant presence surrounding her.

Next Derek collects up Malia’s hair, pulling a band from somewhere and fastening a high pony tail. He then continues to plait her hair, tying it of at the end with a second band.

“I want you on the bed, on your stomach with your head over the foot. Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” Malia says, already rising to follow his command. She wiggles her bum on the way, Derek chuckling at her antis as he starts collecting what he needs for the scene.

Once she has positioned herself Derek joins her.

“Hands behind your back,” Derek asks, kneeling on the bed next to her. “This is high quality rope, but if you think you may be getting a splinter off it I want you to safe word, okay?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Remind me what we are using,” Derek commands. Malia is sure he knows what they are, but is asking to check she remembers.

“Green for good, yellow for slow down, and red for stop right now and get me the fuck out of here,” she responds cheekily.

“Behave yourself, missy,” he reprimands her with a light tap on her backside. Malia tries to roll over to grin at him, but Derek pushes her back onto her front.

“Yes Master!” she giggles. If Derek wasn’t starting to tie her hands together she would have saluted as well.

Once Derek has bound her hands in rope he tugs to make sure it is secure.

“How flexible are you?”

“Well, isn’t that a personal question,” Malia snarks. Without waiting for a better answer, Derek grabs her elbows and pulls them together behind her back. “Oi!” she objects, although not in any pain. Malia has always been quite athletic, and as a result she is also fairly flexible.

Derek starts wrapping the rope around her elbows, holding them towards each other. They don’t quite touch, and thankfully Derek doesn’t force it, but they are tied in position behind her back.

“Lift your legs,” Derek orders, shuffling down in line with her knees. Malia lifts them enthusiastically, almost kicking Derek in the process.

“Sorry, Master,” Malia apologises, although Derek is unsure of the sincerity of it. He doesn’t comment, instead focusing on now tying Malia’s ankles together. Once he ties of the rope he uses the excess to tie her feet to her wrists, just tight enough to be uncomfortable.

“And the finishing touch,” Derek announces, grabbing a final length of rope and shuffling closer to Malia’s shoulders. He starts wrapping the rope around Malia’s braid, tightening it so the rope doesn’t slip of. He pulls on it a couple of times, yanking Malia’s head back with it.

The next time he pulls it back he doesn’t release the tension, forcing Malia to lift her chest off the bed.

“I will admit, you are more flexible than I had anticipated,” Derek comments, still pulling her head higher.

Once he is happy with the stretch he ties the rope to her wrists, securing Malia at his chosen angle.

“I could do anything to you now…” Derek drawls, running a light fingertip along Malia’s back, stopping at her tail bone and rubbing his finger in circles. “I could leave you like this for hours; find myself a book to pass the time while watching out the corner of my eye for the trembling of your muscles. I could blindfold you so you don’t know what is happening.” His hand starts making its way back up along her back, the touch so light Malia can only just feel it passing over her. “I could choke you again, see if this position makes it harder to hold your breath.” His hand teases over her neck, squeezing in warning.

Malia can’t help but feel at his mercy. Every flinch to escape causes the rope to pinch and pull in various places; most painfully her plaited hair.

“I could even disappear off,” Derek says, dismounting off the bed and walking round to start in front of Malia. However because of the way she is tied she can’t see much above his tented pants. “Leave you like this for the night. I wouldn’t, because you said that was a limit, but the point is I could, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. Of course, I am a man of my word and I stick to my word, but it gets you thinking just how… stuck you are. Doesn’t it?” Malia doesn’t think Derek expects an answer, so she doesn’t give one. Instead her mind is whirling with his words. There really is nothing she could do if Derek turned out to not be a man of his word.

Thankfully, she has faith that he is. And because of that trust she finds the situation a turn on. If she didn’t trust him she is confident that it would be a completely different scene.

“However, I have a more hands on approach in mind,” he promises, tenderly stroking her cheek. “You were so good with your mouth this morning I just have to have a second go,” he stars unbuttoning his shirt. Malia waits in anticipation as he hands work their way lower, finally coming into view and revealing the lower part of his six pack. Unconsciously she tries to reach out to touch, but instead of being able to discover the texture of his abs she ends up yanking her legs further forwards, the ropes triggering some sort of chain reaction.

Derek laughs at her silly attempt to get what she wants.

“No no no,” he tuts. “You see, this morning you were in control. Now while I don’t mind letting someone else set the pace every so often, it conflicts with the dom inside me. So to make it up to my dom side, I now need to take what it is I want. And what I want is for you to lay there just like that, and let me do what I wish. Do you understand?”

Malia goes to nod, but the action ends up yanking her hair; confident some strands have just been pulled out.

“Yes, Master,” she says instead, more breathless than she had intended. “Please, do as you wish to your sub.”

“Oh, if only you could actually call yourself my sub. All you are is showing me your gratitude for the new pair of tights you are going to buy. Or is that an elaborate lie just to get me in your pants?” he chuckles. “That hasn’t really worked out though, has it? There are no pants for me to have gotten into. My sub doesn’t need to have pants…” Derek smirks, hands coming to the button on his jeans.

He pops it open, Malia’s mouth also popping open with the action as though there was a switch. 

“If you want it, you are going to have to get it,” he instructs, stepping closer so his crotch is against Malia.

She mouths at the zip, ignoring the tugging of the ropes in favour of reaching her goal. As she pulls the zip down Derek does help her, pushing his jeans lower and freeing his erection.

“Open wide,” is the only warning she gets before he pushes in to the back of her throat. He pulls out before pushing straight back in, no time for Malia to catch her breath.

Thankfully his thrusting doesn’t go past the back of her mouth, but it is still fast and rough and leaves Malia breathless.

Derek places his hands either side of Malia’s head, holding her steady.

“Deep breath,” he orders before his next thrust. Malia almost gags as he continues pushing forwards. He doesn’t stop until her nose is pressed into his trimmed pubes, her forehead flush against his lower abdomen.

He pulls out, giving Malia just enough time to take a breath, before surging forwards again.

Malia tries to be an active participant, trying to stimulate his cock further with her tongue, however she is only able to concentrate on swallowing around the large dick so not to gag.

She takes a deep breath as Derek pulls back, only the tip remaining between her lips. This time she is more prepared for the thrust, her tongue running along the throbbing vein under his dick as he re-enters.

Derek stays at this pace for several minutes, Malia settling into the rhythm to time her breathing. In small increments he starts to increase the pace, making Malia fight to breathe on his backwards motion so she is able to accommodate the length down her throat. She thanks Derek foresight of putting her in this position, making it easier to take his length all the way.

Eventually she notices Derek getting close, so doubles in her efforts. She is aware of the saliva dripping down her chin, but is not in a position to do anything about it.

She starts to quietly hum, remembering Derek’s reaction to the soft vibrations earlier.

“God, yes…” Derek mumbles. Encouraged, Malia continues to hum. She keeps changing pitch to vary the vibrations, and before long Derek is cumming. Malia is impaled, Derek’s cock half way down her throat, leaving her no choice but to swallow so fast she can’t even taste it.

Just before she can’t take it any longer, Derek backs up. Spent, he falls forwards on the bed next to her, leaving Malia to her own devices hogtied with saliva dripping down her chin and the faint taste of cum coating her throat.

After a few minutes of this silence Malia starts to get impatient. She starts wiggling, as much as the ropes allow her, trying to gain Derek’s attention.

When that doesn’t work she tries to shuffle over to Derek to give him a nudge, but ends up tipping over the other way. She has a minor moment of panic when she thinks she is going to fall off the bed, but eventually settles with plenty of room to spare.

Next she tries blowing, hoping the feel of cold air brushing over him will get his attention, but the ropes don’t let her get the right angle for there to be any effect.

“Master…” she whispers. When there is no response she starts to worry slightly, fearing the worst even though logic says he is just is a post-orgasmic haze. “Master…” she says again, louder this time.

Still, there is no response.

“Derek!” she calls, a moment of complete impatience passing over her. She regrets the word as soon as Derek shoots upright.

“What?! What’s wrong? Is everything ok? You didn’t safe word did you? I didn’t think I was that out of it,” he panics, sitting forwards and inspecting Malia for wear and tear.

“No, Master. Everything’s fine. I was… I was just bored…” she admits with shame, feeling guilty for waking Derek.

“Just bored…” Derek repeats suspiciously.

“Mmhuh.”

“So nothing is wrong?”

“No… Master.”

“You are not hurt. You are not in danger. You are not panicking. You do not need to safe word.”

“I’m green, Master,” Malia replies in shame. She is here, being paid no less, to be Derek’s sub. Yet she is being demanding.

“And you called me Derek.” Malia doesn’t respond. Derek sighs. “Let’s get you untied and then have a talk. It wasn’t what I had planned but I’m nothing if not adaptable.”

Derek gets to work, undoing the ropes carefully but effectively. Once he is done Malia drops to her knees without prompting, putting herself physically lower than Derek on the floor.

“Colour?” Derek requests before they continue.

“Green, Master.”

“Good. Now, I want you to explain to me why you are here.”

“I’m here to be your sub, Master, while I am on heat.”

“Did I ever give you permission to call me Derek?”

“No, Master.”

“Am I, or am I not, doing you a favour to help with your heat?”

“You are Master.” It’s at that point Malia realises how underpowering her heat has been this time round. Usually it’s unbearable, but during her time with Derek it hasn’t even been on the forefront of her mind. Maybe because she has been sounded by the smell of alpha it has kept the need more at bay. Maybe because she has been serving Derek the whole time it has tricked her hormones into thinking she is receiving what she needs. She doesn’t know, but it defiantly hasn’t caused her any issues today.

“Did you rouse me for your own needs, rather than for your dom’s needs?”

“Yes, Master.”

“And where those needs something putting you in danger?”

“No, Master.”

“Do you understand why I have essentially paused play?”

“I think so, Master.”

“Expand, so I know we are on the same page.”

“I was being a bratty submissive.”

“Good girl. Now while I don’t mind a bit of cheeky teasing, being rude is not something I can accept. Do you understand?” Malia nods her head. “I know I didn’t state it as an explicit rule, but I did ask for obedience. Therefore I think it is fair to give you a reduced punishment.” Malia drops her head further, expecting punishment but still feeling shame. “You have two options, and I am going to leave for ten minutes or so to let you think about it. First option is when I return your punishment will be over, we move on with the scene, and then we part ways tomorrow morning and that’s it.” Malia nods, although unsure of what the alternative may be. “Your second option is to accept a spanking as punishment. If you chose this option, you will continue your full forty-eight hours, and then tomorrow evening I would like to discuss the options of this arrangement becoming something more permanent. Things have been going well, and I would hate the thought of you being back on the street to make your living. However if this is the case I must start as I mean to go on, and rudeness will be punished.

“Accepting a punishment tonight does not mean you have committed to becoming my sub full time, it just means you are accepting the possibility of discussing it at a later time. By not taking the punishment you are deciding to not continue with this arrangement.” Derek stands. “I will see you in ten minutes.” With that Derek leaves, the door closing with a definitive bang.

When Derek returns, she has made up her mind.

“I would like to take the punishment please, Master,” she announces before he speaks.

“I have to admit, I was hoping for that to be your choice,” Derek smiles. He walks to the bed, perching himself over the edge. “Come lay across my lap.”

Malia rises without hesitation, although she is slightly reluctant. This is the second punishment of today; maybe she is getting a bit too cocky.

She lays across Derek, who loops one leg over hers to hold her still, gripping her waist to make sure she doesn’t slide off.

“I am not going to do many, as this is your first time and it is a minor infraction, but there will be no warm up and it will be with my hand rather than something gentler like a ruler. Have you ever been spanked before?”

“No, Master. Only a few light taps when with enthusiastic clients. Never anything meant to hurt.”

“Thank you for your honesty. I am only going to do five hits, but I want you to count them out for me. Once we reach five, everything will be forgiven and we will continue on with the scene if you wish. Don’t forget you can safe word at any time. Is there anything you need to say to me before I start?”

“Thank you for forgiving me, Master,” she says, still feeling slightly shamed.

“I haven’t forgiven you yet, but I will once I have finished your punishment. Let’s begin.”

Without time to prepare, Derek lands the first smack on her right cheek. Although it wasn’t particularly hard, it catches her of guard.

“One, Master,” she remembers after a few moments.

“Good girl.” As soon as he finishes the last syllable he lands a second smack on Malia’s left cheek. This one is slightly harder, stinging more than the first. It takes Derek clearing his throat for her to remember.

“Two, Master.”

“That’s it.” Derek delays the next one, the anticipation making it worse. She starts tensing up, unsure when the hit is coming.

Just as she starts to relax Derek spanks her right cheek again. She squeals in surprise more than pain.

“Three, Master,” she calls almost instantly.

“Good girl,” Derek praises, landing the next smack as he says it.

“Ouch!” she objects, fidgeting slightly. Derek holds her still until she settles.

“Four, Master,” she says, a little breathless now.

“That’s it,” Derek encourages, rubbing her backside before the final hit. “One more,” he says as he brings his hand down much harder than the previous ones. His palm lands central, just above where her weight mostly is when she sits.

“Five, Master,” she whispers with tears prickling at her eyes. The last one hurt!

“That’s it, good girl. All is forgiven, Cupcake. It’s done,” Derek comforts, manoeuvring Malia to sit in his lap.

She tucks her head into his bare chest, wanting to hide in embarrassment even though it is all over. Derek rubs comforting circles on Malia’s back until she is ready to come out of her ‘hiding’ place.

“Hello,” Derek smiles when she shows her face again.

“Hey,” she replies shyly.

“You back with me?” Malia nods. “Do you want a few more moments?”

“No, I think I’m okay thanks Master.”

“Are you happy to continue with what I had planned or do you want to do something more vanilla.”

“I’m happy to continue,” she admits honestly, wanting to pick up where they left off as soon as possible. Besides, she has been here for over twenty-four hours and is yet to be fucked, and she hopes Derek has that in store for her.

But even if he doesn’t, she is sure it will be stimulating all the same.

Derek lifts her up bridle style and carries her the short distance to the St. Andrews cross. He ties her arms above her head before then also attaching her ankles to the wood.

Derek then heads to one of the cabinets, setting off a bit of nervous excitement for what else is left in store for the evening.

She watches Derek pottering around the room, curious to what’s taking him so long.

“Don’t know what to do to me, Master?” she teases, feeling more confident after her time spent snuggling with the intimidating alpha. Derek laughs.

“Specifically now or just in general?” he teases back, settling into a rhythm as though it hadn’t stopped. Malia looks away coyly.

“Either? Both?”

“Well, wouldn’t you like to know?” he replies, putting an end to the conversation as he returns to Malia. “What colour is electric play?” he asks.

“Green I think, Master. I’ve not done it before.”

“Safe word if it gets too much,” Derek replies dismissively, pulling something out of a box and unwinding its cable.

He plugs it into the wall next to the cross and switches the socket on.

Malia shivers.

“Have you ever seen Harry potter?”

“Yes, Master,” she replies, unsure what Derek is getting at.

“Well, it was one of my favourite books as a kid.” He passes the tip of the… object… across her abdomen. The glass end cool against her skin as she watching it follow random patterns. “But you see, it wasn’t the mythical creatures or the magic potions that got me hooked. Nor was it poor little Harry. Do you know what fascinated me?”

It takes a moment pause before Malia realises that Derek expects an answer. “No, Master.”

“It was their magic wands, and the mischief they could cause.” With a chuckle he taps the item just above her bellybutton, sending a jolt of electricity through her. Stunned, she looks back at Derek. “Now, for a while I experimented with my own… wand, to put it so crudely. But that,” he cups his clothed groin “while very magical to thirteen year old me, was not magical enough.”

Malia chuckles, wondering what Derek must have been like as a thirteen year old. Probably just as demanding at a guess.

“This is my new toy; my violet wand.” It doesn’t ring a bell to Malia, but she can gather it’s an electrical rod given the shock she got a moment ago. “I even use this one on myself.” She drops her eyes back to the item, the wand, as Derek runs it up and down her body. He pauses, slightly higher than before, and zaps her again.

Malia tries to tense away on reflex, but her restraints on the cross don’t allow her much movement.

Derek takes the wand away for a moment, using his other hand to rub at the spot his just struck. Malia shuts her eyes, concentrating on the feeling of Derek’s hand.

Because of this, she doesn’t notice when he brings the wand back up, hovering it over her right nipple.

“Ouch!” she exclaims when he sends a spark right into her breast.

“So, what do _you_ think of my magical wand? Much better than the Harry Potter ones isn’t it.

“It’s-“ she is cut of as he sends a spark to her left nipple. Malia suspects Derek is turning up the voltage. Or is it the current? She studied physics in high school but never really paid attention to the electricity lessons. She now wishes she had tried harder to understand it so she would have a better idea of how the wand works.

“I think so too,” Derek chuckles, zapping her again on each nipple in quick succession. This one leaves Malia slightly breathless, the shock running through her body.

Without long to recover Derek holds the wand above her right nipple, sending a spark her way, as he takes her left nipple between his teeth, sucking the hardened nub.

The sensations overwhelm Malia, the mix of pleasure and pain confusing her brain.

Derek lightly bites the tissue before swapping over to her right and zapping the slightly damp left. The remaining saliva creates a completely different, intensified feeling. She has to bite her bottom lip to stop herself from moaning; hard enough to break the skin.

Derek changes his target, attacking her skin just below her collar, his nose pressed up against the leather.

Malia sucks in a breath, bathing in Derek’s sent as she does so.

“What aftershave do you use?” She asks, loving the smell. Would it be weird of her to go buy it for herself? “Is it apple?”

“It’s actually some forest scent. My shampoo however, is the apple you can smell,” he replies, the words slightly muffled against her neck. “You can shower in the morning and use it if you wish.”

Malia likes the idea, being able to smell Derek one her after she has left. She might have to see if she can smuggle a bottle away with her.

Smelling like Derek; a definite turn on. It would make her even more _his_.

Wait! Where did that thought come from? She stores it in the back of her mind to come back to later, currently preoccupied by Derek’s whole body pushing against hers, her back pressed into the wood of the cross. The wand is forgotten, laid gently on the cabinet just in reach, as Derek marks Malia.

“I’ve been looking forwards to this,” he says, his hand roaming lower and cupping her. “While many men like getting what they want straight away, the anticipation makes it so much better.

“Do you know what I was thinking about today?” Derek asks, unlatching his lips from her neck in order to look Malia in the eyes. She shakes her head, not trusting her voice. “I was picturing what you; pottering around here in only your birthday suit, completely unaware of what I was planning for tonight.

“When I saw you on that street yesterday, I knew I needed to have you, at least just the once. And as bratty as you might be,” he scolds slightly, “I want to try so much with you, yet have so little time.” He takes half a step back, undoing his jean button once again in only a few hours. He undoes the zip and pushes the jeans down in one motion, stepping out with one foot and using the other to send them out of the way across the room. He leans into Malia, hands placed either side of her hips and nose in her hair. “So, I was trying to work out what I could allow myself to do. And there was only really one thing I knew I couldn’t not do.”

He drops down slowly, his hands going to her right ankle. He brushes over the cuff before eventually unbuckling it. Looking up at her he goes to release the second cuff, not taking his eyes of hers as he does it.

Once both ankles are free, he pulls his boxers down. Malia can’t look away from the way his muscles role with each movement he makes.

Derek allows her a few more moments of gawking before he pushes back against her. Because of their slight height difference Derek’s dick is sandwiched against Malia’s lower stomach, however it doesn’t seem to be an issue for Derek. He places a finger below he chin, forcing her to lift her head slightly so Derek can take her lips in his.

He teases at her bottom lip, suckling at it. Malia drops her jaw to grant him access, but he doesn’t take it straight away.

He runs his tongue around her lips, leaving Malia breathlessly wanting more. Finally he lets their lips connect completely, forcefully surging forwards to take what he wants.

Without detaching their lips, Derek squats down slightly to pick Malia up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

They continue kissing before he starts to angle himself at her entrance, gently pushing forwards until he is fully inside her. Malia’s moan is swallowed by Derek as she finally receives what she has been after since she met him.

But oh god is it better than she was expecting. And worth the wait.

Derek doesn’t move, both of them still engrossed in exploring each others mouths that the sex isn’t at the forefront of their minds.

Besides, sex isn’t just penis in vagina; and kissing is still a big part of it. Especially when the lips she is kissing taste so… Derek.

Derek breaks the kiss too soon in Malia’s opinion, but she forgives him when he starts to thrust. Malia watches his arm muscles straining as he holds her up against the cross. She twists her hands as much as the cuffs allow to grip onto the wood of the cross, helping Derek to support her weight.

He doesn’t comment, but his thrusts speed up so Malia assumes he notices a difference. Unfortunately her upper body strength is not as good as it should be, and she quickly starts struggling to hold her weight. However she keeps powering through, determined to be a good girl for Derek even if he hasn’t asked her to hold herself up

It doesn’t take long for Malia to be on the edge, having spent over twenty-four hours being teased, but she tries to hold back.

“Good girl,” Derek praises, apparently having noticed her restraint. He stops thrusting, pushing Malia into the cross so he can let go of her legs.

He reaches up and undoes her wrist cuffs.

“Hold on,” he orders, Malia finding the strength from somewhere to wrap her arms around his neck.

He walks them over to the bed, climbing on with his knees before shuffling up towards the head board, laying Malia down gently. Somehow they stay connected through the movement.

Now she is laid down Malia lets herself relax a bit more, starting to feel the fatigue of the last few hours.

She focuses on Derek’s thrusting. In. out. In. out. In. out. Derek’s breathing starting to get louder as his continues at his relentless pace. Malia isn’t sure she can wait much longer when Derek speaks up.

“Are you nearly there?” Malia nods, not trusting her voice. “Good. You can cum as soon as I do, okay? Count with me. One,” he starts as he thrusts in. He waits until Malia echoes him before thrusting again.

“Two,” she says just before Derek.

On the count of six, Derek is cumming. Malia orgasms right after him on the seventh thrust.

They lay there in silence for several minutes, both too spent to move. Eventually it becomes uncomfortable to Derek, who moves to lay beside Malia, spooning her from behind.

***

Malia wakes up sticky. It takes her a moment to work out where she is.

Last night they must have both fallen asleep before they got round to cleaning up and moving to their respective beds. Or in Malia’s case, her temporary cage.

She carefully stretches her joints out to test for any unusual or unexpected pain, trying not to wake Derek in the process. While she does feel a bit stiff, there isn’t anything for her to be alarmed about. She sighs in contentment, happy to stay like this for hours.

Unfortunately her sighs stirs Derek from his sleep, who roles away from her and onto his back.

“Good morning, Master,” she greets, sitting up and turning towards him. She has a moment of worry that she will be in trouble for waking him up, but that leaves when he smiles up at her.

“Morning, Cupcake. How did you sleep?” His voice is musky with sleep, and Malia can’t help but wish she would wake up to that every day.

“Probably the best I have in ages, Master,” she replies honestly.

“That’s good to hear. Urgh,” he grumbles, noticing the mess around them. “This is going to be a bitch to clean. Come on, we can deal with that later. Lets have a shower first,” he swings his legs of the side of the bed. “Do you want to go first or second? Or we could share.”

“I would like that Master. To shower together I mean,” she elaborates.

“Well, come on then,” he says as he gets up, reaching for her hand as she joins him.

***

Malia was slightly disappointed there was no shower sex, however Derek made up for it by washing her hair with the apple shampoo. All through breakfast she kept trying to subtly smell it.

“I can give you a bottle to take with you if you like it that much.” Malia goes bright red, having been caught in the act. Derek chuckles at her. “If it makes it any better, I like the fact you smell of apple. You smell like mine.” He turns back to his cereal.

_Mine._

Malia likes the idea of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you have enjoyed it  
> if you have, i would really appreciate it if you would leave a kudos or comment!


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